


Just A Nightmare

by unabashedcandymaker



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 02:15:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5565250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unabashedcandymaker/pseuds/unabashedcandymaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You investigate what you assumed was a haunting, but after a convo with the Winchesters gets cut short and they come to find you, everyone finds out they are dealing with something they've never experienced before, and turn out to be way over your heads.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The last thing you could remember was entering an abandoned house in the middle of an otherwise empty field. You were nearly positive this is was the place the locals were referring to as the “haunted mansion”. You remembered talking to the Winchesters just before entering the house. They were only a town over and even though you insisted you could handle whatever this was, Sam insisted on heading over anyway. You’d given them a brief recount of the stories you’d heard and your location before stepping inside and losing signal.

You remember making it through the downstairs, finding nothing out of the ordinary, although in this line of business that didn’t always mean anything. You had made your way up the creaky staircase when you saw a shadow pass by a doorway. Immediately you followed it, ignoring the pit in your stomach that told you to turn back. You had been absolutely positive it was a ghost scaring off the local teens. All you needed to do was dig around a bit, find any kind of information that might lead you to some remains to salt and burn. 

Now, however, you realized you were so very, very, very wrong. Only now, it was too late to run away. A solid shadow stalked past in your peripheral, only this seemed not to be a ghost, this seemed to be corporeal. There was a sickly sweet smell of roses and then another flash of darkness just out of your line of vision. There were heavy footsteps behind you, but before you could turn to see what it was, you found yourself lying on your back, staring at the ceiling.

Confused, you tried raising your head, but found it strangely too heavy to lift of the floor, as if there was something strapping you down. You tested your arms and legs, finding them immobile too. Now comes the panic. The rush of adrenaline started coursing through your body, causing your skin to vibrate and your limbs to tremble. There was a sharp pain in your chest, your heart now beating in triple time. A wave of nausea swept through your gut as you fought not to lose your lunch.

You tried slow, deep breaths, struggling to remember how to combat the panic attack. You’d inhale a shaky breath, finding your chest was still restricting too much to take in enough oxygen. Slowly you could feel darkness ebb around the edges of your vision and you could hear heavy breathing as slow footsteps approached. You could see a large dark silhouette framed by dim light as the blackness absorbed your senses and you fell asleep.

“Dean, she’s not answering her phone.” Sam shouted to Dean as they sped down the wet highway. His senses were on high alert, worry and anxiety flooding his system as his phone connected him to your voicemail immediately. Something was wrong. He knew it. He knew better than to think you weren’t capable on your own, but his gut was telling him something was wrong, something was off. When the phone call cut out in the middle of your conversation earlier and now, every time he tried to call you back, it wouldn’t even ring.

“I’m going as fast as I can.” Dean answered as he white knuckled the steering wheel, not liking the whine coming from the Impala as he pushed her as fast as she could go down the deserted length of highway. 

They shared a concerned look; Dean knew Sam’s instincts usually were spot on in situations like this. He knew better than to doubt Sam’s gut. Both looked forward at the road again, listening to the tires on the blacktop as they sped towards town.

It took them twenty minutes to make a forty minute drive to the house you were investigating. Sam bolted out of the car before Dean could even put it in park. He pulled his gun up, keeping it level with his shoulder as he stalked around the field to your car, careful to look for traces of any kind of predator. By the time Dean got out and pulled his gun, Sam was walking back, lowering his gun to point at the ground.

“It’s a bit too quiet, don’t you think?” Sam said as the two of them glanced around the field, looking for any sign of movement in the trees surrounding the plot. Dean nodded once before signaling that they should split up.

Both raised their guns as Sam edged around to the back of the house while Dean slowly crept up the front porch and in the front door that hung open. Dean barely stepped through the threshold before he heard movement coming from the upstairs; heavy slow footsteps. It felt almost like an eternity before he’d crept silently up the stairs and into the room he thought he’d heard the movement coming from. He moved quietly, carefully to the room at the end of the hall.

He peeking inside the room, quickly whipping the gun along with his line of sight till he saw you lying on the floor, unconscious. Abandoning all sense of caution, he dropped his arms and rushed to your side. He checked for your pulse and blew out a slow breath in relief when he felt your strong pulse albeit a bit fast.

“Sammy! I found her.” He pulled your body up from the floor and stood, turning to take you back downstairs and the hell out of this damn house. “She’s…”

Dean never got to finish his sentence before a heaviness settled inside his head, making him feel groggy, like he was being drugged. He could feel his legs weaken, unable to move his step. He could feel your heaviness in his arms, his strength slowly fading as he felt his knees start to wobble. He whipped his head side to side, trying to shake the haze washing over him. 

A movement just out of his sight caught his attention and he looked over in just enough to see a large dark mass start to move slowly towards the two of you. He tired; he really honestly and truly tried to run, to save you, both of you, but he fell to the floor, crashing to his knees, your body falling limply to the floor again before he collapsed half on top of you. He felt the soft material of your shirt under his cheek as his eyes darted up towards the looming figure moving so slowly in your direction. He tried to yell for Sam again, but a short gust of air was all he could manage before the haze turned into blackness and he fell asleep.

Sam came bounding up the stairs when he heard Dean’s voice and then a crash. The smell of roses wafted over him as he saw in the far room the crumpled heap of you and Dean lying on the floor, clearly unconscious. In a few short strides, Sam was kneeling by you, trying to heave Dean’s body off of yours, and checking for injuries and then a pulse. 

Sam didn’t hear the movement behind him, the heavy dragging steps, the heavy labored, loud breathing. He didn’t even feel the hot breath against his neck before he started to feel sleepy. Sam rubbed at his eyes for a second before the room started to spin around him. His head tilted to the side, his arms falling to the floor. He blinked a couple times and then suddenly joined the two of you on the ground, fast asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

You opened your eyes to find yourself staring at a wide expanse of red, orange, yellow leaves, some falling straight for your face. After blinking a couple times, you noticed trees standing tall above you, the leaves so thick you couldn’t see more than a few rays of sunlight trying to break through. Then you could feel a damp coolness against your back.

You were lying on the ground. Quickly, you bolted upright, noticing you were no longer inside. You whipped around to see nothing but trees, some old and thick and tall, others thinner and new. There was nothing else around you for miles. Where the hell were you and how had you ended up outside?

Not knowing the answer, you figured it was best to start running. And you ran. Unable to think of a better solution, you ran faster, for what felt like miles; not stopping until you felt your side starting to split open and couldn’t catch your breath. Feeling fatigued and worn, your feet stumbled over a log covered in leaves causing you to fly through the air and land flat on your face, scraping your hands and forearms. After a minute trying to slow your heart, you were able to push yourself back up to your feet. Warm blood started trickling down from your freshly broken skin, the cool evening breeze causing them to sting.

Not so silently, you cursed yourself. There was nothing to bandage your cuts so you pulled your long sleeves back down to your wrists, the cotton material sticking to the blood. You looked around, taking this opportunity to get a better look at your surroundings. There was nothing for miles and miles and miles except trees and leaves and mud.

A few steps behind you, there were a rustling of leaves. Slowly, you turned towards the noise, eyes peeled, looking for anything out of place. At first there was nothing. Then a snapping of a broken branch to your side caused you to whip back around. There stood Dean, staring blankly at you. Fucking finally! Maybe he knew what was happening.

“Thank God!” you exclaimed as you took a couple steps in his direction. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m not sure what’s happened, but there was a…”you stopped when you noticed Dean wasn’t reacting or responding. In fact, Dean wasn’t even looking at you. He didn’t seem to be hearing you at all. 

To test your theory, you moved closer to him, slightly to the side, watching as he continued to stare at the same patch of nothingness. He wasn’t seeing you. He wasn’t hearing you. Finally, you were standing by his side. When you waved a hand in front of his face, hoping something might get his attention, his head snapped in your direction as one of his large strong hands gripped your wrist in a crushing hold.

His eyes bore hard into yours, causing your unease to grow. Your adrenaline spiked again as you realized this was not Dean; at least not the Dean you knew. There was something wrong. It was something about his eyes; so blank and emotionless as they bore into yours.

You pulled your arm back hard, barely freeing yourself of his grasp and stumbled backwards until you hit a tree. Dean still stared at you, not even blinking. Something changed. Suddenly his eyes widened and he stared at you in disbelief, as if he were finally seeing you. Something still off because he didn’t relax. His muscles strained as he clenched them, his hands fisting by his sides. You looked back up to his face, watching him try to process whatever he was seeing.

“Dean,” you tried again, your voice trembling. Your hand reached out towards him when a glint of light flashed across your eyes. Looking down, Dean was now holding the demon knife in his hand, clenching his fingers around the handle. There was barely enough time to throw your body at the ground before a knife came barreling towards where your chest had been, now embedding itself in the trunk of the tree instead.

“What the fuck, Winchester?” you screamed as you rolled onto your front and pushed yourself up to your feet again. “Dean!” You scrambled backwards again as he stalked towards the knife and pulled it from the tree.

“Dean!”

He didn’t respond. The look on his face now murderous, homicidal, furious. He gripped the handle tighter and started towards you before you turned tail and bolted, hearing his heavy footsteps running after you. 

Dodge and weave, you chanted to yourself. While Dean may have been fast, his bigger body kept him from being able to change direction, his bulk wanting to keep his momentum moving in one direction. Every couple seconds you would dive left, then right, circling in random paths through the forest, Dean’s heavy feet never far behind.

 

Dean woke in the woods, unfamiliar with his surroundings. He stood perfectly still, thinking hard about how he ended up here. His first instinct was to not draw any attention to himself before he knew what was happening. He looked around, only to find himself in an abandoned wooded forest. Nothing about this was familiar, except maybe they could be part of the woods they passed on the way to the haunted house.

Speaking of that house, hadn’t he just walked inside? How the hell did he wind up in the middle of the fucking forest? He thought hard, trying to retrace his steps. He was looking for you. He walked inside the house, upstairs, then what? It wasn’t easy coming back to him. A pulsing in his head blinded him for only a second before he remembered seeing you on the floor; then blacking out. Now he’s here. But that still doesn’t explain how he got here. What happened between then and now?

There was movement to his left. His head followed slowly, seeing a slight body move in his peripheral. The body moved slowly, still kind of blurry despite being well within the distance to see clearly. As if he were emerging from a fog, he finally saw you. You were timidly walking closer to you, raising a hand at him. Instinct took over, whipping his head around, and grabbed the assaulting arm.

His stomach dropped. Oh god damn it. He looked at you, seeing you clearly for the first time as you stumbled back away from him. Your eyes were solid black. How the fucking hell were you able to be possessed? He knew you had the charms and the tattoo on your hip. His grip tightened against a blade in his hand he was only just now aware of. He tensed, knowing what the right decision was. He didn’t want to, but somehow you were possessed and he was more than able to end it right here. This had to be connected to how he woke up in the woods. Maybe if he killed the demon inside you, or at least tortured it, he’d figure out how to get the hell out of here and back to Sammy.

The blade flew from his hand as you dove to the ground, ducking out of range. He watched you scramble again to your feet as he raced for the blade and pulled it from the tree. You flew through the trees like a bat out of hell, but you wouldn’t lose him so easily. He raced behind you, following every move you made.

Dean knew exactly how to get the answers he needed. All he had to do was catch you first.

 

You could barely see where you were going. Bark and limbs and leaves flew past you in a blur, trying to stay on your feet and ahead of the hunter chasing after you.

Why was the hunter chasing after you? What the hell caused Dean to snap? This must be a dream. It has to be a dream. You willed yourself to wake up, knowing full well it wouldn’t work. The pain was too real to be a dream. Blood still trickled down your arms, scrapes burning in the cool autumn air. New cuts and scrapes forming against your face and neck and now exposed arms as the sleeves had been nearly obliterated as they snagged and ripped through thickets of wild terrain. 

It felt like hours and the hunter was still close on your heels. Left, right, right, right, left, right, left again. You focused on the pattern of dodging trees instead of your burning lungs and pounding head and the chilling wind that froze the sweat off your skin. How the hell was Dean able to keep up with you? You were fast, an advantage to your smaller frame; but his large, muscular body had no trouble, barely seeming to push himself to stay on your heels. The only advantage you had was when you would weave through the trees. He had speed, but with that much power and muscular build, his momentum made it harder for him to weave through the trees.

That’s how you’d lose him, you kept reminding yourself. It’ll just take time. Right, left, right, right, left, right. You zig-zagged your way through the forest. Sure enough, the more you wove and dodged, he finally started to fall further behind. You looked back, and that was all it took. 

You took your eyes off the path long enough to trip over a fallen tree and you were sent flying through the air. It took a bit before you realized you should have hit the ground by now. Your eyes were screwed tightly shut as you felt the wind blowing over your skin, senses of vertigo making you feel nauseous. When you were finally able to open your eyes, you felt a blast of pure, hot pain burst against the back of your head.

Then it was everywhere. You felt the rough bark of trees and sharp branches rip and tear and everything they touched as you tumbled down an intimidating incline. You were unaware of how long you fell and tumbled and rolled. It felt like eternity. Maybe you already died and this was your eternal torment. Just as you resigned yourself to your fate, you felt your body slowing, the pain not as intense as it was just a moment before.

Sure enough, the ground was leveling out. You reached out to grab for anything to slow your momentum, only for your wrist to catch a tree and a sickening crack accompanied a blinding pain and your body slammed to a complete stop. Your forearm was caught in the split of an old tree causing your arm to bend backwards at an odd angle. An odd dip in the skin between your bicep and your forearm was enough to tell you that you had just completely shattered your elbow. 

It took a great deal of patience and pure strength of will to work your arm out of its entrapment without screaming in pain. Hell, it took everything in you not to vomit purely from the sensations alone. Once freed, it hung limp at your side. You tried to wiggle your fingers, and were barely able to do so. Any other movement was absolutely impossible.

Your surroundings were quiet; almost too quiet. You couldn’t see or hear Dean anymore. Hopefully he had been stopped by the cliff you just tumbled down. If he had fallen after you, there’d be a loud commotion of his giant body crashing through the brush and branches. 

Nothing looked familiar, and with the sun setting somewhere beyond the trees, it was becoming too hard to see farther than just a few feet in front of you.

Before you could do anything else, you had to fix this arm. With your left arm, you tore away at the torn over shirt you had on. Carefully, but still painfully, you were able to work it off your arms and over your head. Putting an edge between your teeth, you ripped the material into long strips, then carefully tying them together again to make a homemade sling then tide it around your torso, holding it steady against your body.

Now the downside; you were left in the chilly autumn weather at night in only a tee shirt to defend your skin against the steadily decreasing temperature. Slowly, you started trekking down an unmarked path, chill bumps breaking out across your exposed flesh. You were now no better off than you were when you first woke up, unable to find a way

The downside was you were now left in only a tee shirt to fend yourself against the steadily decreasing temperature. You took off slowly, chill bumps breaking out across your exposed flesh. By the time had set, you were no better off than you were in the beginning, unable to find a way out of the darkness. 

After a couple minutes, you stopped. You stood silently, trying to magically navigate out of this bullshit forest in the middle of the fucking dark. When you stopped cursing, you were able to hear the soft bubbling of water over rocks. Stumbling forward you were able to see a river, a rushing current moving swiftly downwards.

Fan-fucking-tastic. The current had to be at least 20 feet across and untelling how deep. Any other time, it wouldn’t have been a big deal to jump in and swim across, but in the cold fall weather, it was daunting. You couldn’t explain why you knew this, but something was telling you that to get out of this shit storm, you had to get to the other side where the trees weren’t as thick.

There was a rustling of leaves behind you. Fearing that Dean had finally caught up to you, you jumped into the rushing water, the coldness knocking the air out of your lungs. You let the current pull you under, staying down in case Dean might see you. After you could no longer hold your breath, you fought your way back to the surface, finally breaking through and taking in a fresh gulp of air. Finding the other side, you climbed up and threw your body against the muddy bank. Looking around, there was no sign of Dean so you lay your head back down and relaxed while you could.


End file.
